


The Future and Its Dark Waves

by TotalAlienation



Category: Moby Dick - Herman Melville
Genre: Crying, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, ahab and his deadly monomania, inspired by all the other poetic moby dic fics on ao3, ishmael contemplating the pequod's future, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26232949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotalAlienation/pseuds/TotalAlienation
Summary: Ishmael, tired and worried, contemplates Captain Ahab, as he has done many times, and the future, now that they're so close to encountering Moby Dick.
Relationships: Ishmael/Queequeg (Moby Dick)
Kudos: 10





	The Future and Its Dark Waves

The sun had come down slowly and wobbly, reminding the former schoolmaster of The Rachel’s swift movements as it had departed sullenly from the Pequod earlier that day.  
The young man straightened himself up, pushing away from the bulwharks and turning around, the rising moon’s gentle light now falling across the roughened deck.

Scratching a worried itch at the back of his neck, Ishmael drifted away into his thoughts, anxious eyes fixed on the huge moon above the ship.  
The Whale, Moby Dick, was near. No one knew how near yet, but its spotting would be inevitable with Ahab’s deepening madness and lust for revenge taking over both his rational human mind and instincts.

Ishmael let out a pressed sigh, fretting worry growing in his throat. Captain Ahab won’t let anything stop him, especially now that they were so close. They could’ve helped searching for Captain Gardiner’s small son, they could have. Who knew what had happened to him. Maybe he was still lost at sea,or worse, Ishmael looked away.

But nothing would make the ivory legged man give up, intense lust for revenge swallowing him like the whale had swallowed Jonah.

He leaned over, looking at the dark sea as its swift waves moved gently, hiding all kinds of creatures away from the ship and its tired crew under its foamy cover.  
What will become of them? He tried to push the answer out of his mind as he lifted his head, looking across the deck and spotting a few other men around - and the tall, sitting figure of Queequeg, his dear friend, near the cabin.

He walked over towards him, the Rokovoko man lifting his dark eyes and meeting his friend’s blue gaze as Ishamel sat himself down next to him, taking a deep, silent breath.  
His eyes went over the deck again, towards its every man present on it , and its every scratch and imperfection, no doubt worn down by time.

A gentle warmth slowly pulled him out of this haze, Queeuqeg’s hand firmly placed on the blond’s shoulder. Ishmael leaned on this welcome arm, feeling a newfound drowsiness descending over him. With a bit of strength, he turned to look at Queequeg’s face, his tired, concerned stare lingering until the stoic man besides him guessed his thoughts.

Two strong arms made their way around Ishmael, and the blond was pressed tightly against Queeuqeg’s warm, welcoming chest. Sighing, Ishmael wrapped his own arms around his friend, letting himself feel all the warmth and comfort he was offered.

“Don’t be scared.” Queequeg’s voice was soft like the moonlight now streaming over them, bathing them in a white light.

“I’m- no-” Ishmael could only murmur before a flash of the White Whale swam trough his mind, a fidgeting Ahab in a boat and a bloodied ivory harpoon in his arms, helplessly standing in front of it as The Whale’s rage tore trough Ishmael’s mind. 

The dream-like vision then washed away, leaving him wondering whether it was perhaps some sort of prophecy. A growing beat of fear now dwelled in his heart and the former schoolmaster found a swift, sudden sob rippling trough him, a few hot tears welling up in his eyes. Attempting and failing at swallowing them down, he chalked it all up to exhaustion and weariness. 

“Shh, it’s alright.” Queequeg muttered, stroking the blond’s hair and hugging him tighter.

Ishmael continued sobbing in his bosom friend’s chest, occasional thoughts of fear and the scarred Moby Dick popping up in his mind.  
He would never truly admit it out loud, but he was scared of the uncertain tone their fate had taken, grippled in the hands of a madman. Either way, Queequeg had seemed to guess that as he slowly pressed a kiss on Ishmael’s hair.

“Queequeg” Ishmael felt the strength to finally mutter, feeling the last tears roll down his cheeks, falling down on his clothes. _I wish it could be just the two of us, safe and sound._

Queeuqeg’s embrace tightened even more, and Ishmael let his head fall against his bosom friend’s strong arms, leaning on them comfortably as a long silence fell over the ship, penetrated only by the persistent sound of the waves below.

“Ishmael?” the blond’s trance was interrupted by a low, soft voice. Moving his head slightly to get more comfortable, he took another soft breath, waiting for his friend to continue.

“I love you.” Queequeg muttered and a warm flash cut and pierced trough Ishmael like a harpoon. A gentle, welcoming and reassuring harpoon.

“I love you too, Queequeg.” he replied.

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another Moby Dick fic bc I truly love it. This time I tried to do a more complex and poetic- and a bit angsty- view of Ishmael's thoughts during the book's later chapters. Hope you like and enjoy!


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